Chapter 7: The Shit-cident.

Many of us have medical conditions we wished we did not have.  In my case, I suffer from ADHD, and those that know me can readily see this. Although unmedicated, I can still highly perform. It takes a very long time and a concerted effort at concentration but once in the groove I can manage. I also suffer from IBS-D, and I have my entire life. Before I learned how to manage this condition-knowing which foods to avoid how to try to predict bathroom scheduling Etc-I would end up with stains in my underwear as a kid. It had nothing to do with personal hygiene and everything to do with a medical condition I did not know how to control. It's still difficult as an adult with the urgency and again people that I work with have seen this. There have been times when I've had to stop at a gas station on my way to a 911 call in order to fulfill a bathroom need. This situation is unbelievably embarrassing as well as very problematic. As I've mentioned before my mother is married to an absolute raging fuckhead. On this particular day in question, I was in my room or outside doing whatever it was a thirteen-year-old does. Fuckhead screams at me from the window "boy get your ass in here" . that was typical for me to hear multiple times a day. The best way I can describe my childhood is to discuss Butters Stotch from South Park. Butters is an innocent young naive 9-year-old who is constantly a victim of circumstance. His parents are unduly harsh on him and he is always placed in situations that caused him emotional and mental damage and strife. He's a sweet innocent kid who is constantly handed a shit sandwich and forced to eat it. Not a day went by where I wasn't either beaten up or screamed at for something either insignificant or just did not exist. When I discussed the heavy-handedness of the physical nature of "discipline" with my brother, he readily admits that he was "spanked". I tried to tell him there is a significant difference between being spanked and being beaten. Our mother spanked us. That much is true. So did our father. And a spanking is much different than being beaten. A spanking is to get your child's attention. Mothers fuckface husband was trying to hurt us. That's the difference. Spankings don't leave bruises. Not to mention the emotional and mental bruises that still exist. It is absolutely abnormal to bring a 13 or 14-year-old into the bathroom while taking a shit. Forcing them to watch you defecate While you scream at them about the presumed lack of personal hygiene. So there we were in the bathroom being yelled at. Then he takes the toilet paper off of the roll and shows us how to fold it. Then he proceeds to lift his leg reach around and wipe his ass. Do you think he would just drop the toilet paper into the toilet? Absolutely the fuck not. He then shoved it to us forcing us to look at his ass wipe screaming at us “that's how you wipe an ass”. Then he continued to wipe his ass showing us each time the progressively cleaner toilet paper. Is this normal? Did other children have to see this kind of thing? Did it matter I tried to explain to my mother that I did not have normal bowel movements? There's something very wrong with him. Perhaps he was sexually abused- That might explain his pathological homophobia. I strongly believe he has some unresolved issues but that does not take away from the reality. Knowing the reason something exists does not excuse the behavior. It merely explains it. I know my mother was emotionally abused. When I try to bring these items up with her, all I see is cognitive dissonance projection and deflection. I've tried for years to speak with her I've used different communicative modalities. I've attempted jocularity I've attempted humor I have attempted aggression I've attempted depression. every single situation results in the same response. There has never been a single time in her life for one of her children did not hate her. My brother hated her growing up. I hate her now. I don't want to hate her I truly don't. But she has not taken any steps to try to resolve the situation. I have expressed my desire for her to at least acknowledge what she has and has not done. 

I was going to save this next part for another chapter but I might as well add it as I feel like my typing is flowing. Everybody knows I was in the military. Everybody knows I spent the entire 9 years on active duty overseas. 4 years in Korea and 4 years in Germany. Coming home on leave is not just as simple as going to the grocery store. There's the whole process of filling out a request for leave form. That's a DA 4187 (personnel action form) for those that don't know. This goddamn form has to go up through your entire chain of command from your squad leader to your platoon Sergeant to your sergeant major to the goddamn Commander. Each one of them tries to find a reason to not approve your leave. I was in a field artillery unit when I was in Korea. For the uninitiated, a field artillery unit spends the majority of its time in the goddamn motherfucking field. You can't have artillery in Garrison. Never not once did I try to come home during the holidays. Half of that was intended because the Army has a half-day schedule where we did absolutely nothing throughout the day so it was like having time off while still being at work. I would usually reserve my leave request for when my mother had her Kentucky Derby party. Let's back up for a moment. Growing up my grandfather had a massive Kentucky Derby party. It was humongous there were dozens of people present Including former governors Park Ridge. He had a beautiful house in Park Ridge and my brother and I where are employed by my grandfather to be "sanitation Engineers" which means we each had a garbage bag and would walk around picking up garbage emptying ashtrays Etc keeping the house clean. He paid us a significant amount and on top of working for money it also allowed us to mingle with everybody at the party. We felt visible and important. My grandfather excelled at making us feel loved included and most of all important. He did not tolerate any type of condescension towards us by anyone at the parties. So I have a fond memory of his Kentucky Derby parties. My mother tried to replicate this. I've never been to one of her parties. Not once. I tried multiple times when I was in the military to time my leave for one of her parties. Twice it actually worked I was able to get that week off I think it's in May? And both times the day before the party she would come back wringing her hands like she does when she's nervous. And after 5 minutes of fumbling her words, she would finally tell me that my ex-girlfriend and her current husband were going to be present at the party. She would leave me along the pathway until I would finally say "would you like me to leave and get a hotel room”? Unbelievably she would say yes this happened two times. She chose my ex-girlfriend and her husband over me. This is not surprising this is a common pattern in her life. So I would pack up my gear after being home for a week maybe? And go get a goddamn hotel room. Then I would stay away from the party and I’d just hang out with a bottle of Ketel One or Bacardi. My ex-girlfriend, Stacy, and I eventually got back together and got married. We talked about this numerous times. She brought this up to my mother who responded to Stacy that she felt like she may throw up. Then she told me that there has been a terrible miscommunication. A miscommunication? I'm more than happy to find my bank statements that have the logs and the dates of my Airline ticket and the hotel charges that you will see will coincide with her fucking party. After the second time, I just stopped making an attempt. Wouldn't you? I have asked and I have demanded of her to remind me of a time when she has conspicuously defended me or at least didn't choose someone that didn't even LIKE her over me. Like Stacys now Ex-husband. More to follow as I need to go run an errand…but ill definitely return…I still want to discuss the tennis racquet indecent, Echo and the Bunnymen, the fire, and a few more things before I get back to me and Stacy…it all leads up to that and I feel it's germane to our ongoing story.